


Rivers and Roads

by SwiftEmera



Series: Seblaine Week (2015) [5]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Betrayal, Chuck AU, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, pretend dating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 07:29:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4513197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwiftEmera/pseuds/SwiftEmera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian Smythe's life has been on a downward spiral since his expulsion at MIT, but an email from an old college buddy really sends it spinning out of control. Suddenly, Sebastian finds that he can recall government spy secrets that he shouldn't know in the first place, and CIA agent Blaine Anderson is forced to team up with NSA agent Rachel Berry to watch over him. [Seblaine Week 2015 Day 5: Free Day (Spy/Chuck AU) and Seblaine Week 2017 Day 2: Spies]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Seblaine Chuck AU, because Chuck is my favourite show, and it deserves all of the love. Okay? Cool. A few things, though. 
> 
> First – Major warnings for Chuck spoilers. I mean it. If you plan on watching the show and don't want to be spoiled, don't read this fic. 
> 
> Second, any character defamation is due to my need to use them for a plotline and not to any actual dislike of said character. 
> 
> Third, I... made Marley Sebastian's sister? I needed a sibling for him, and I nearly used Claret (my OC from another fic) but I ended up using Marley instead, I don't know why but it seemed to work. (Plus, why the hell not have Supergirl be The Flash's sister?). 
> 
> Last of all, this fic will be in two or three parts, depending on how long it takes me to get to where I need it to go. I'll try to get it finished ASAP and uploaded – I was actually hoping to have it done by now, but I ended up going more into detail than I originally anticipated (pretty much the story of this week for me, tbh) and wasn't able to finish it in time, and I wanted to upload it for Seblaine week, so... here you go.

Quiet days are Sebastian's worst nightmare.

Honestly, most of his co-workers are usually grateful for the break. He doesn't even have a clue where Jeff and Nick are, and Hunter's locked away in his office, probably buried under a mound of paperwork – which is why he hasn't marched in to see where the hell his employees are at, Sebastian figures.

He's _so_ bored, though. So, he passes his time by checking his email, rifling through the junk mail and social media notifications (seriously – he really needs a new email address, it's getting ridiculous) when he freezes at a familiar name. Cooper Anderson.

Now, Sebastian's not an idiot. He hasn't spoken to Coop in _years_ , and in actual fact, he was the very guy who got Sebastian kicked out of college due to accusations of heavy drug abuse which he's still curious as to how the hell the tests came up positive, because he's never injected anything in his fucking _life –_ he wouldn't dream of it, he loves himself way too much for that shit. Sure, he's smoked a few joints in his time – it was college, everyone was high. But that wasn't enough to get him kicked out. So it's curiosity that has him clicking on the email, rather than any sort of desire to reconnect with the jerk.

“Why would Cooper Anderson send you an email?”

Sebastian feels himself jolt at the voice, before whirling around to meet the eyes of one Santana Lopez.

“Fucking _hell_ , San,” he groans, “We need to put a bell on you or something.”

“Language, Twink. Our customers might overhear you,” She gestures to the empty sales floor around the Nerd Herd desk, and Sebastian snorts, crossing his arms.

“You think you're hilarious Shaqueera, but let me tell you, one of these days that snarky attitude of yours is gonna come back and bite you in the ass.”

She replies with an eye-roll, and then, “Any payback _I_ get for _my_ attitude, you'll receive a thousand percent worse. Excuse me if I don't lose any sleep at night. Seeing you suffer will be worth it, in my book.”

"Whatever," Sebastian grumbles in reply, because yeah, she has a point.

“Anyway. Cooper Anderson? Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that the dick that ruined your life?”

“Yup,” Sebastian replies between gritted teeth.

“Wow. What does he want, exactly?”

“I don't know. I haven't got the chance to read it yet. You're distracting me.”

“I do that,” Santana smirks, but she takes a step back from the screen anyway. “You're lucky I have to do a stock check, though. Otherwise I'd sit here bothering you all day. It's always a pleasure.” She jabs him in the arm with the stock gun, making him flinch a little. “See ya, Twink.”

“You know, you really need to find a new nickname for me. Twink is getting stale,” Sebastian calls after her as she saunters away, and Santana replies with her middle finger.

 _That's my girl_.

Attention back on the email, he considers it for a second, absently tapping his finger on the mouse, before clicking to open. To his dismay, there's no message – only an attachment.

He's faced with a dilemma. On the one hand, he's way too smart to download something that, knowing Cooper Anderson, is likely to be spyware or some other sort of virus. On the other hand, he _is_ a genius when it comes to that type of thing. Anything that Coop can try to fire at him, he can programme to pretty much blow up in his stupid smug face.

It's why, despite his lack of a degree (thanks, Cooper), he still managed to wrangle a job at the Nerd Herd at their local Buy More, specialising in fixing technical problems. Corny name, he knows, but it's the best he could do – no one was knocking down his door to recruit what they believed to be a drug-addled college reject, but Hunter had seemed quite enthusiastic about taking him on. It's not saying much, to be fair. Nick and Jeff are morons, and Hunter only really cares about raking in the money to worry about quality of staff or customer service. He just happened to luck out.

Santana, unfortunately, isn't part of his team – she's Buy More sales staff, which means that while he gets the pleasure of her company now and again on days like today when the floor is pretty much void of customers, he isn't able to rant to her when it's packed. She's usually far too busy dealing with bratty customers who don't know a television from a flat screen monitor, while Sebastian has to grit his teeth dealing with middle-aged technophobes who don't have the slightest clue what Antivirus software is.

So, yeah. He hates this job. He hates it with a passion. But he's pretty much stuck with it, because he doubts that MIT will ever let him back in to complete his degree thanks to the brutal assassination to his character that Cooper had apparently managed to pull off so effortlessly.

He glares at the blank email, renewed fury boiling in the pit of his stomach, and clicks on the attachment. Might as well get it over with – see what the hell Cooper is trying to do to him now. If anything, it'll pass the time. Yup, this is the kind of shit Sebastian Smythe does for fun – downloads a virus for amusement.

When the file downloads – intersect.exe, yeah, that doesn't sound suspicious _at all –_ he double clicks, and a black dos box appears before him. He blinks, waiting for the inevitable blowout, but nothing happens.

He sighs. “Way to go, Coop. You made the world's most ineffective computer virus. Moron.”

A loud crash from the break room distracts him,and he lets out a low growl before minimising the window in favour of going to check it out.

Despite being on the same wage bracket and having the exact same job, Sebastian seems to have inherited some sort of responsibility towards his co-workers. No matter what those idiots manage to get themselves into, he always seems to get the blame if something goes wrong.

“Okay, what the fu--” Sebastian is cut off with a gag as he enters the tiny space, a thick, white cloud of smoke fogging his vision and working its way to the back of his throat.

“Heeeey, Seb.” Jeff giggles, his legs pushing back on the break room table, swinging his chair back on the two hind legs. Sebastian's half hoping that he falls back and cracks his skull – he'd most definitely deserve it. Nick smirks at him behind a lit joint still dangling carelessly in his mouth, his feet propped up and crossed over on the surface of the table.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Sebastian snarls, slamming the door behind him. “Do you know what'll happen if Hunter catches you? Ugh, it stinks like a frat house in here.”

“It's cool,” Nick laughs, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. His eyes are heavy and bloodshot, and his lips are relaxed into lazy grin. “He'll just blame you for it, and he values you too much. We'll all still keep our jobs.”

He marches over, snatching the damn thing out of Nick's hand, nipping it in the ashtray furiously. “Fucking idiots. I'm taking this.”

“Hey, that was our last one!” Jeff whines, making grabby-hands towards Sebastian, who rolls his eyes.

“You should have thought about that before you decided to smoke it in plain sight. At least I have the decency to wait until I get home to finish it.”

“Hypocrite,” Nick grumbles, arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed in Sebastian's direction – although he can't quite tell if it's because he's glaring, or because he's evidently high as a kite.

“Tidy up in here – open the window, and do whatever you can to get that stink out of here. I swear to god, if I catch a whiff of it when I come back, I will shove my foot so far up both your asses that you won't be able to walk right for days – although, Jeff, that's probably nothing new for you, but I'm sure my foot will cause much more discomfort than that tiny dick that Duval's packing.”

“--we're not—”

“Hey! I don't have--”

“Shut the _fuck_ up, both of you,” he snaps, thrusting his finger at them warningly before spinning on his feet and closing the door with a _slam_ before they attempt to protest the nature of their relationship, or their dick sizes for that matter, because in all honesty he just doesn't care enough to hear it.

When he returns to the computer, he remembers about the black square box that he'd left sitting there, and clicks on it again out of curiosity. A small white line begins blinking, and Sebastian peers closer, because that's... new.

Suddenly, the screen is filled with images, flashing before him just to be replaced by another within seconds, and he can't for the life of him figure out what the hell is happening – there's faces that Sebastian doesn't recognise, buildings, documents, explosions, and he hears a faint buzzing sound in the back of his head. He lets out a groan, stepping backwards from the screen to get his distance, but he can't bring himself to look away. The images flood his vision before he crashes to the floor in a bout of light-headedness.

 

***

 

The next thing he knows, he's being shaken awake by Santana, who is crouched down next to him, wide-eyed and panicked. “Sebastian,” she says urgently. “ _Fuck_ , wake up!”

He groans, eyes opening to squint at his friend. His vision blurs, but the bright light of the Buy More is far too strong all the same. He holds his hand in front of his face to shield himself for a few seconds, pushing himself up with shaky arms so that he's sitting upright, meeting Santana's height.

“Ugh, I feel weird,” Sebastian says, and it comes out completely wrong – the tremble shouldn't be there, but it is.

“What the hell happened, Seb? You nearly gave me a heart attack,” Santana asks shakily.

“I don't know, I-- I opened the email from Cooper, and then I-- I guess I got a little light-headed? I don't really remember,” he lies, because telling Santana that he was clearly hallucinating would only make her worry more, he's certain.

“Fucking hell, Sebastian. You're trembling. You need to go home.”

He pushes his hair back from his face with shaky hands, trying to focus on keeping himself upright. “Do you think Hunt will let me?”

“I'll handle him. You go home. _Now_.”

 

***

 

He barely remembers his journey home - mind still pretty hazy from his brief attack of... whatever the hell that was.  
  
He's standing in his shower, palms spread out on the tiles before him, the support keeping him from collapsing all over again. The spray runs over his face, warm droplets trailing down his skin, and he sighs, allowing his bones to relax into the warmth.  
  
He doesn't know how long he soaks for, just trying to gather himself together, but when the water runs cold and his skin wrinkles, he moves his hand to twist the dial, and the water halts abruptly.  
  
A shaky breath escapes him as he removes himself from the blurred glass cubicle. He dries himself off almost mechanically, towelling his hair then wrapping the towel around his waist before opening the bathroom door with a _click_.  
  
"Seb? You're home?" Marley shouts up to him, and he sighs, because all he wants to do is go lie down, and his sister is going to bombard him with questions.  
  
Might as well get it over with.

The sound of the radio flows through the hallway as he makes his way to to the kitchen – the news. The anchor drones on about the Ukranian prime minister, who is apparently set to be arriving in Burbank today. Sebastian freezes in his tracks, the light-headedness from earlier that day overtaking him again. Like he'd experienced before he passed out, a series of images flash before his eyes – air traffic charts, landing logs, and a plane that he registers as flight 220, and suddenly, he's overcome with the thought – no, the knowledge – that the guy in question had actually arrived the previous night, contrary to what the news anchor is saying.

“He's already here,” Sebastian says into the empty hallway.

And then, he groans, running his hands through his hair, because seriously – he must be going crazy. Something is definitely wrong with him – he's not sure what. A stroke? An aneurysm? Mass hallucinations brought on by stress? He has no idea. He decides not to dwell on it, though. He doesn't feel woozy, and the visions have completely dissipated. It can't be that urgent, right?

When he gets downstairs to the kitchen, he stops in his tracks, because - yeah, of course Ryder is here too, his arms wrapped firmly around Marley's waist from behind.

Of course, Sebastian isn't a modest guy - ten minutes in his company and even someone of Jeff-level intelligence could work _that_ out. However, he's a mess - his eyes are heavy and bloodshot, and one glance at his own skin tells him that he's white as a sheet, even after the warm shower.

Ryder barely spares him a glance - he's been with Marley for two years now, he's barely phased by Sebastian walking about half naked anymore, but Marley wrinkles her nose in disgust, holding her hand in front of her face to block the view.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. "Oh, come on. I'm covered."

"Not _enough_ , Seb. How would you like it if either me or Ryder walked about in only a towel?"

He leers at Ryder. "One of those scenarios actually sounds like a dream that I had once. I can tell you all about it if you--"

"--please don't." Ryder cuts in, covering his face - not fast enough for Sebastian to miss the blush creeping across his cheeks, though. He snorts, sending him a wink for good measure.

"Leave him alone, Seb," she scolds, but her tone is light, and she pats Ryder on the arm as she moves to the cupboard, mugs clinking together as she places them on the counter and takes a few generous scoops from the coffee jar. "What are you doing back so early? I thought you were supposed to be working until six o'clock tonight?"

He shrugs, raking through the cookie jar in favour of finding something with chocolate over it. His fingers close over a small box of cookies, and he pulls it out. This should help with his blood sugar, he figures. That's what helps people after they faint, right? Sebastian wouldn't know - he's never fainted in his fucking _life_.

"Seb?"

"Oh, uh, I-- kind of sort of fainted?” He shrugs casually, trying to play it off. “Santana made me go home. It's not a big deal, I'm fine."

As soon as the words leave him, he feels the regret instantly. Concern is etched on Marley's face, brows pinching her forehead, and Sebastian cannot _stand_ the sympathetic look in her eyes.

He avoids her gaze, his eyes firmly fixed on his toes, and he rubs the back of his neck. "Look, it's fine, it was just a weird... thing that happened. I feel fine," he lies, vaguely aware of the fact that he's used the word _fine_ way too many times now in such a short period of time. "You guys go back to being grossly heterosexual, I'm going to go... read. Or something."

"Are you gonna be okay to go to work tomorrow? I can call Hunter if you--"

"I'm fine, Marley. Butt out," Sebastian snaps, and Marley flinches.

Without another word, she thrusts a warm mug of coffee into his hands with an angry look on her face. "You're lying,” she grits out. “But fine, suit yourself. Ryder and I will be in the living room when you're ready to act like an adult."

"Wouldn't hold my breath, little sis. I've made it twenty-five years so far with this attitude, I figure I can just keep going with it."

She rolls her eyes, taking Ryder by the hand. "It's no wonder you're single. I pity the guy that ends up with you for a lifemate."

"Ugh, monogamy. So boring." Sebastian scoffs, taking a sip from the mug. It's still steaming hot, and it scalds his tongue a little, but the caffeine and sugar is exactly what he needs right now.

Marley softens, fixing him with a piercing gaze. "You know, I really wish you'd change your outlook on that. You're twenty-five years old, you've never dated anyone for more than a week, and you're stuck in a dead end job with no way out, and to top it all off, you live with your _sister_. You're miserable, Seb. You think that no one sees it, but I do. Why won't you let me set you up on a date with Danny?"

It's not the first time she's offered. Danny, apparently, is a guy from Marley's office that she fondly describes as _the lovechild of Brad Pitt and Johnny Depp_ , and while that sounds fascinating, he knows that Marley would be pissed at him if he humped and dumped the guy - which is the only form of dating that Sebastian's remotely interested in.

He doesn't reply - she already knows his stance on her suggestion, anyway, so she can't possibly be expecting a different outcome. When he turns his back and begins making his way out of the kitchen in favour of escaping to the silence of his bedroom, though, he hears her let out a frustrated grumble.

  


***

  


The next day, despite Marley's protests, he returns to work. Hunter rants at him for a little on leaving early without permission, but Sebastian just tunes him out, scanning the sales floor with vague disinterest.

The store is actually pretty busy - he can see Santana working her charm on some blonde chick, and he beams proudly, because she's probably flirting relentlessly, no doubt. Judging by the flushed cheeks on the blonde's face, she certainly seems interested enough. When he catches her eye, he throws her a wink, and she smirks in reply.

When he _finally_ escapes Hunter, he makes his way over to the Nerd Herd counter, and sighs heavily, because the line is stretched all the way back to the door, and the only other person working the counter is Nick. It makes him wonder why the hell Hunter wasted so much time lecturing him when he could have been dealing with the line. He stopped questioning Hunter's managerial skills a long time ago, though.  
  
Nevertheless, the day goes by pretty quickly, and he only snaps at three or four customers - a miracle, really, because the imbeciles are out in spades today. He's had a customer who complained that her WiFi wasn't working on the computer she'd purchased, who turned out not to have an ISP or any concept of how the internet works. A middle-aged guy had come to complain that he couldn't remember his email address or password, and that he needed Sebastian to remember it for him- which, _how_? And then there was the girl that complained that her phone was faulty - turned out her battery was missing. She had demanded a new one for free, and had to be forcibly removed from the store.  
  
Thankfully, it gets quieter, and there's only a few customers roaming the sales floor towards the end of the day. Nick has disappeared, and Sebastian really doesn't have the patience to check up on whatever shit he's getting himself into now.  
  
That's when he walks in - the most gorgeous guy that Sebastian has clapped his eyes on in his entire life. Hazel eyes dart around the store, before they land on Sebastian, and he flashes him a dazzling smile that makes Sebastian's heart skip a beat.  
  
The world seems to slow in its pace as the man approaches him, all dark curls and long eyelashes, a thin layer of stubble coating his chin and _fuck_ , Sebastian's staring -he needs to stop staring, but he seems to have forgotten how.

“Hi, I'm having a problem with my phone. I was hoping you could help me?”

Sebastian leans on the counter with his hands in an attempt to appear cool and casual, but he can feel the heat spread across his face, and judging by the small amused smile the other man is wearing, he's really not hiding the magnitude of his attraction well at all. Shame, really – he's already been given into trouble for flirting with the customers by Hunter, or he'd be all over this guy.

“Yeah, uh-- how can I help you, Mr...?”

“Blaine. Blaine is fine.”

“Blaine,” He tastes the name on his tongue, deciding that he likes it. “I'm Sebastian. How can I help?”

“My-- uh, my phone--”

He bites his bottom lip, holding his hand out. “What's wrong with it?”

“I don't know, it just won't turn on. I'm so sorry, I'm hopeless with technology, and it's probably something really really dumb, but I'm just completely missing it,” Blaine tells him, placing the device in his hand with a self-berating expression on his face.

Normally, this kind of thing would infuriate him. One look at the phone tells him that it's a battery issue, and can be fixed within seconds, but the guy seems genuinely apologetic in his ineptitude, and Sebastian can find it in himself to forgive him. He rifles through his breast pocket, fingers closing around the small screwdriver, and gets to work.

The dark-haired man watches him with interest, and Sebastian allows himself to peek up at him once he's finished, shooting him a lazy grin and flipping the phone casually in his hand before holding it out to Blaine. “All done.”

“Thanks,” Blaine beams, taking the phone from him. “How much do I owe you?”

He shakes his head, hoping that Hunter isn't lurking around in the background. “No charge.”

Blaine arches his eyebrows. “Won't you get into trouble for that?”

“Maybe,” he shrugs with an amused huff. “Don't worry, though. They can't fire me. I'm the best they've got.”

“Modest, too, I see,” Blaine quips wryly, leaning over the counter, his hand brushing with Sebastian's.

He smirks down at their hands, ready to come back with some sort of proposal that involves himself and Blaine in a more private setting with far less clothing, consequences be damned, when a loud crash has him drawing back in favour of peering over to the sales floor, where Jeff sits amongst what was once a display of boxed graphics cards. He lets out a low growl of frustration, and the heat of Blaine's hand leaves him.

“Okay, I can see that you're busy, I'm going to just-- go.”

“No, wait, I--”

“Smythe, stop standing there and go help Sterling out with that display, will you?” Hunter calls over to him from where he's standing surveying their PC monitor displays, clipboard and pen in his hands. “And keep a closer eye on him in future.”

He lets out a frustrated groan, but Blaine just huffs in amusement, lowering his voice in a much more seductive manner, a slight twinkle to his eyes. "Tell you what, you go and deal with that, but I have a few more questions about your... services. If I give you my number, would you call me when you get off work? I'd love to continue this conversation over dinner."  
  
Sebastian chuckles. "Smooth."  
  
"That's me," Blaine replies with a wink, sliding a white business card over to him before taking his leave. Sebastian surveys the card with interest - it's completely blank, save for a name and a phone number. _Blaine Devon_ , it reads. What the hell does this guy do, exactly, that warrants such an ambiguous business card?  
  
"Sebastian!" Hunter calls out  
  
He huffs, pushing himself off the counter and pocketing the card with a smile on his face that he can't quite extinguish.  
  


***

  
  
"Look at you getting all dressed up. Hot date?"  
  
He doesn't bother looking away from the mirror, continuing to run his fingers through the strands of hair, trying to get the bristles to sit in a less haphazard manner. Harder than it sounds, really. His hair just doesn't seem to want to co-operate today.  
  
"Yeah, actually," he tells his sister in reply, huffing in frustration as the fringe flops over for the fifth time.

  
Marley leans against the door frame of the open bathroom door, surveying him with interest. "What's his name? It's not Hunter, is it?"  
  
"I've told you countless times, Marls. Hunter's straight, and even if he wasn't, I'd rather stick my dick in a meat grinder than have it anywhere near that fuckwit."  
  
"Ugh, must you be so colourful?"  
  
It's funny, really, that they share the same absentee father. Marley is sweet, innocent, easily freaked out by any discussion of sex, and it took her a year into her relationship with Ryder to lose her virginity. Sebastian, on the other hand, lost his virginity a long, long time ago, and he can't even remember what the guy looked like, never mind his name. He's promiscuous, sceptical, and - let's face it - a bit of a dick.  
  
Of course, he might get that from his mother's side - he doesn't know. He's never met her. He'd been told that she died during childbirth by his father before he walked out of Sebastian's life without so much as a second glance. He'd been lucky, really, that Mrs Rose had taken him in as her own. The day that lost the battle to stomach cancer ranks right up there on the worst moments of Sebastian's existence.  
  
It's just him and Marley now, and he's struck with a sudden surge of affection towards his sister, who is still staring at him like he's hiding something that is of absolute importance to her.  
  
"Marley, seriously. Go away." There's no heat behind his voice, and he knows Marley picks up on that, because her lips spread out into a wide grin and her face lights up with excitement.  
  
"Holy crap. You really like this guy, don't you? Details! I need them _right now_.  
  
"His name is Blaine, and our encounters have consisted of one brief conversation over a broken phone, and a few text messages arranging our date." He checks over his hair and sighs. _That'll have to do_. He turns to Marley, corners of his mouth turning up in a smug manner. "If you want more details, you'll have to wait until I get home tomorrow morning. I don't plan on coming back tonight."  
  
She wrinkles her nose in disgust. “TMI, Seb. TMI.”  
  
“Hey, you were the one that said you wanted details,” he replies, booping her nose as he passes her to exit the bathroom.

  


  


***  
  


It's going pretty well so far, he figures. Blaine is fascinating and mystifying at the same time. He looks – if it's at all possible – even better than he did when he came to the store earlier that day. His curls are still present in his hair, but a little more carefully styled, and he was donned in a three piece navy suit with scarlet lining, topped off with a red silk tie, and _god_ – Sebastian just wants to devour him right then and there.

Behind his good looks and boyish charm, there's an air of mystery that Sebastian is just dying to delve into. He talks about his childhood – tells him that it was pretty boring, he grew up on a farm in Ohio, parents still live there, blah blah blah, but there's something about his expression that makes Sebastian wonder exactly how much the other man is leaving out.  
  
He doesn't seem to have a lot of hobbies, Sebastian's quick to find out as they make their way through their fancy-ass three course meal that he can barely afford on his wage. Now, Sebastian's not the type to care about that kind of thing – he, himself, has a fondness for computer games, music and his friends and family (the very few people that he holds close to him, at least) and that's about it. Plus, it's not like he's looking for a life-mate, here, and Blaine kinds of gives off the vibe that he's in the same frame of mind. Dinner is merely a formality.

Once they finish, Blaine insists on paying. Sebastian attempts to protest, but he waves him off stubbornly, and Sebastian shrugs it off, because what the hell – free meal. They take a walk hand-in-hand by the river, and Sebastian tells Blaine a little about himself – his job, his sister and his college days, mostly. They're far enough from the road that no cars can be heard passing by, but close enough to civilisation that they're not drenched in complete darkness. All that can be heard is a few crickets chirping in the background, the sound of water rushing down the river, and the gravel crunching below their feet.

“So, you went to MIT, huh? Should I be intimidated?” Blaine asks, quirking a teasing eyebrow at him.

Sebastian huffs a slightly bitter laugh, and shrugs. “Hardly. I never got to graduate.”

His date's face falls a little, and he pauses to tug on Sebastian's hand so that he halts in his tracks. He seeks direct eye contact, and Sebastian humours him.

“There's not much to tell. Some guy who I thought was my friend fucked me over. Got me kicked out. I got accused of drug abuse.”

Blaine arched his eyebrows. “Were you? Taking drugs?”

He sighs and shakes his head. “No. Well, not-- not heavy drugs.”

“Then why--”

“Believe me, Blaine, I have no idea. I've spent so much time thinking about it, y'know? What I could have done to make him hate me so much. But I just-- I can't for the life of me figure it out. One minute we were buddies, the next minute he was a cold-hearted dick.”

He feels a warm hand land on his shoulder, and Blaine squeezes him a little with an empathetic smile. “That sucks. I'm sorry.”

He shrugs again. “Used to it.”

They clear the path, and find themselves back on the pavement beside the road. It's mostly empty, save for a few cars zooming past them now and again in various directions. However, when a motorcade of black limousines round the corner, Sebastian freezes as the familiar light-headedness takes over him once more.

_Shit, not again. Not right now._

It's useless, though. Entirely out of Sebastian's control. There's a bright light, and images envelope his sight again. Apple pie, blueprints, a large assembly hall, and then nothing. Sebastian's breath stutters, and Blaine is watching him with concerned eyes.

“What's wrong? Did I-- did I do something wrong?”

He shakes his head, attempting to clear his mind, ignoring his frantic heartbeat and the rising panic in his chest. “Sorry. I zoned out for a second.”

Blaine laughs, “God, am I that boring?”

“Not at all.” Sebastian replies, flashing him an apologetic smile, but when Blaine shivers a little, his smile dips. “You're cold?”

“A little. I'm fine though.”

Without much thought, he shrugs off his own suit jacket, draping it over Blaine's shoulders. He half expects Blaine to insist that he takes it back, or at least complain that Sebastian will get cold now, but he does neither of those things. Instead, he chuckles, and says; “I look ridiculous now.”

“Nah – you could be starting a new trend here, Killer. A suit jacket inside a suit jacket?” He grins, drawing his lips close to Blaine's ear. “It's sexy as hell.”

Blaine shudders, and this time it's nothing to do with the weather. He turns to Sebastian with a twinkle in his eye. “It's a little early to take this party back to my apartment. Why don't we go somewhere for a while? You said you liked music?”

“And you said you didn't,” Sebastian teases with a sly smile. “What are you playing at, Devon?”

Blaine shrugs. “I don't, really. But someone told me about a great bar that hosts local bands – Drumbeat? Have you heard of it?”

“Yeah, I- uh. I've been there a couple of times.” He arches his eyebrows, watching Blaine carefully. Something isn't right – he can sense it, but he doesn't want to fuck this up by stepping out of line. If he can just play this right, he'll have Blaine naked and horizontal by the end of the night – a few extra hours of socialising won't kill him.

  


***  
  


That's when it all goes pear-shaped, of course. One minute they're dancing together, and Blaine's grinding up against him, which is causing all sorts of reactions in Sebastian's pants, and the next minute Sebastian's eyes dart towards a woman in a dark dress – a brunette, hair pinned back into a tight ponytail, and Blaine is yanking him by the hand and pulling him out into the street in a blind panic.

“Jeez, Killer, one minute you want to go somewhere else, the next minute you're desperate to get me back to your apartment. You really know how to keep a guy on his toes,” Sebastian jokes. It's a defensive tactic, really. He's starting to feel like there's something bigger going on here, in all honesty, he's mentally calculating just how badly he wants to get laid tonight against how much he values his safety.

Blaine doesn't say anything, just drags him to a red Corvette that's parked on the sidewalk, pulling out a rather suspicious looking cylinder device from his pocket, and jamming it over the lock, and the car opens with a _click_.

“Wait, this is your car? Did you park here when you came to meet me at the restaurant?”

“I really don't have time to explain, Sebastian,” Blaine says hurriedly, and there's something urgent in his eyes. “Please get in the car. Please. I promise I'll explain--”

A black SUV skids around the corner, and Sebastian's eyes widen as it angles itself to face them.

“ _Fuck_! Sebastian! In the car!” Blaine shouts over the racket of horns and skidding tires.

“What the hell is going on?” Sebastian asks, and if anyone asks him later, he'll swear that his voice didn't momentarily go as high as it just did. Panicked, he complies, hoping that he's not making the wrong move by trusting Blaine.

He barely has time to clip his seat belt in when Blaine revs the engine, and the car goes hurtling out of the space, rounding the SUV by inches, and he's rocketing them through the traffic. Sebastian is fairly certain his heart is racing at a thousand miles-per-hour, and his entire being is filled with dread.

“Blaine?” Sebastian asks shakily. “Now would be a great time to fill me in on what the _everloving fuck is going on here?_ ” He knows he's shouting now, but he really can't help himself, and Blaine doesn't say anything about it. They whip past a few panicked-looking pedestrians in the street, who point at them with terror in their eyes.

“Okay, listen to me very carefully,” The SUV is right behind them now, and it's making a good go at ramming into them, but Blaine speeds ahead, narrowly avoiding smashing into the side of a truck by mere inches. “The woman in that SUV is an NSA agent named Rachel Berry, and she's after you. I need you to trust me, Sebastian, because if she catches you, she _will_ hurt you.”

“You're not really from Ohio, are you?” It's the first thing that escapes his mouth, despite the millions of other glaring questions that he has circling his mind right now – like, for example, _why the fuck is this happening_ and _what the hell does she want with him_?

Blaine growls low, but doesn't answer him, his eyes firmly on the road as he white-knuckles the steering wheel – which Sebastian is at least thankful for, because the dial tells them that they're traveling at just over 200 miles-per-hour, and he's big enough to admit that he's fucking _terrified_ right now.

Without warning, the SUV crashes into them from behind, and they're being dragged along the road sideways, the car crushing in on itself in the process. Luckily for them, air bags burst open in front of them, and they grind to a halt mostly uninjured, save for the ache in his bones and a few scrapes and cuts on their faces.

“ _Out_ ,” Blaine yells hoarsely, and Sebastian follows the instruction immediately by scrambling from the car – not because he trusts Blaine, but because he doesn't know who to trust here, and Blaine is the one that's kept him alive so far. He hopes he keeps up the tradition as he darts after the other man, following him through narrow gap in the buildings. The SUV, too large to fit through the narrow passage, crashes right into the walls with a deafening clatter. He doesn't look back to see whether the driver survived or not.

“Through here,” Blaine shouts, before he slams his foot into the side-door in the middle of the alleyway, and Sebastian follow him through. Once hidden, they stop for breath, Sebastian struggling to inhale, and Blaine panting heavily.

“What-- the fuck-- is going on?” Sebastian manages to gasp out between panted breaths, clutching onto his chest like it's his only lifeline.

“Cooper Anderson,” Blaine replies, as if that answers everything, and-- wait, what?

“Excuse me?” Sebastian replies, narrowing a suspicious glare at Blaine.

“Not here,” Blaine answers, grasping onto his hand and dragging him up a narrow landing. They traverse up a seemingly endless spiral staircase until they reach an open rooftop – a helipad, by the looks of it. Blaine pulls something out of his pocket – a black cellular-looking device, and presses a button at the side, muttering something into it that he can't quite make out, but it sounds like a request for a pickup.

“What the hell does Cooper Anderson have to do with some NSA agent chasing me? And who _are_ you? Are you even gay, Blaine? That's your name, right? Or did you lie about that, too?”

“That's-- irrelevant. How long did you know Cooper Anderson for?” Blaine asks abruptly.

“I-- we knew each other in college, he's the asshole that got me kicked out of MIT-- how do _you_ know Cooper Anderson?”

“He was my--” Blaine hesitates, and he avoids Sebastian's intense gaze. “We worked together at the CIA. That's all you need to know.”

“Wait, hold on a fucking minute! You're telling me that Cooper is a spy?”

“He was a rogue!” Blaine roars, and his eyes are alight with fury, as though he takes it extremely personally. Despite his utter confusion of the entire situation he's managed to get himself into, he finds himself wondering what exactly the nature of the relationship between Blaine and Cooper was. “Has he tried to contact you?”

Sebastian's eyes widen, and he takes an automatic step backwards. “He-- he sent me an email. It was just a virus, but it didn't-- it didn't do anything.”

“Think carefully, Sebastian. Did anything weird happen when you opened it? Did you save the program onto a-- a drive, or something?”

“No! I tried to close it, but when I did, I--” That's when it hits him. The virus, or whatever – it must have caused the flashing images, and then the fainting. He lets out a shaky breath. “My mind. It went... hazy? There were pictures. A _lot_ of pictures, and then I-- I passed out.”

Blaine swears under his breath. “That's not good.”

“What do you mean it's not--?”

“Give him up, Anderson.”

Both heads turn towards the small door that brought them up to the roof, where the chestnut-haired girl from the club stands. Sebastian is still reeling from the use of the all-too-familiar surname, until his eyes flicker to the gun she's pointing at them, and Sebastian's heart jams in his chest.

“Don't freak out,” Blaine tells him.

Which, is he fucking kidding him right now? He's being held at gunpoint by what Blaine tells him is an NSA agent and he's being told not to freak out?

Blaine reaches behind himself, and Sebastian gapes as he pulls out his own rifle, pointing it towards Sebastian. “Take one more step and I shoot, Rachel. Don't test me.”

“Blaine?” Sebastian's voice cracks, and he raises his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender.

“Don't be stupid, Blaine. You've spent the entire night tailing him. I know you're not just going to shoot him. He belongs to the NSA. Give him up.”

“No,” He tells her with a low growl, turning to Sebastian. “Whatever she tells you, don't listen to her. As soon as they're done with you, they'll have you dead within minutes.”

“Very much in favor of staying alive,” Sebastian says, making a shaky attempt at retaining his wit to preserve a sense of normality. It doesn't work, but at least he can say he tried.

Rachel lets out a heavy sigh, eyes narrowing on them both. “You know what? It's late. I'm tired,” and then, she turns to Sebastian. “Where is the Intersect?”

“The-- the what?” Sebastian asks, breathless.

“Don't play dumb, Sebastian. The sooner you give up the information, the sooner we can all go home here. If that doesn't work, I'll shoot you both here and now, and I'll find it another way to get what I need.”

Sebastian backs away slowly as the two agents focus their gazes on one another, trying to ignore the fact that he has two guns pointed in his direction. His heart hammers in his chest as he surveys the area – the stairwell is behind Rachel, so there's no way that he can get past it, and there doesn't seem to be any other way out. He scans the edge of the rooftop, before his eyes land the large corporate hotel behind Blaine, and he stumbles on his feet.

“Don't move!” Rachel yells, but he's already being consumed by flashing images yet again.

Computer schematics, blueprints for the hotel, a file of a Serbian demolitions expert, and it all settles into place in his mind, as if it should have been obvious from the start. “The Westin,” he yelps out, voice panicked. “He's going to kill them.”

Something unpleasant stirs in his stomach as Blaine and Rachel share a look that he can't quite decipher.

“What are you talking about, Sebastian?” Blaine asks, approaching him slowly, lowering his gun. Rachel stiffens, finger firmly on the trigger.

“I-- the Ukranian Prime Minister. The demolitions expert – he's-- he's going to kill him. He's going to blow up the hotel.”

“Sebastian?” Blaine asks again, eyes piercing through him.

And fuck, they're looking at him as if he's gone insane, but he knows now-- he knows that people are in danger, and he's a dick, but he's not evil – he can't stand by and watch innocent lives being torn away out of fear of his own life.

“Blaine,” Sebastian pleads, turning to the other man. He speaks quickly, trying to get it all out before Rachel pulls the trigger on him. At least if he dies here, Blaine will be able to do something about the building. “The email from Cooper. I don't-- I don't know what happened, but since I opened it, I've been seeing things. I remember things that I shouldn't know.”

“Like what?” Rachel asks, voice wavering a little. Unconsciously, her finger loosens on the trigger, and Sebastian's chest relaxes a little.

He took a deep breath, gathering as much courage as he could. “This thing... whatever it is that's in my brain, it shows me things – tells me things. Like, how the NSA intercepted blueprints for the Westin Hotel, and how the CIA found schematics for a new Serbian bomb in Prague. I don't understand how I know this, I just-- I just do! Please believe me!”

“Holy shit,” Blaine breathes out, eyes wide with realisation. “It's the Intersect. You downloaded the intersect into your _brain_.”

Rachel takes in a breath, head darting towards Blaine. “That's not possible.” Then, she raises her gun again, this time pointing it towards Blaine. “What the hell are you playing at, Anderson?”

Sebastian quirks a brow at Blaine, because he registers it this time – the surname. “ _Anderson_? Your card said your surname was _Devon_.”

Blaine huffs, unamused. “We don't have time for this.”

“Wait a minute. Are you related to Cooper? You are, aren't you? That's what you weren't telling me before.”

“It doesn't matter, Sebastian. Cooper is _dead_.” Blaine roars in reply, his voice cracking a little at the end. “He died sending the Intersect to _you_.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been forever and a day since I updated this fic, but I still adore this AU so much. And since I've graduated, I can work on my multichapters again! I apologise profusely for the delay, though.
> 
> As always, thank you to my amazing beta [Medha](http://archiveofourown.org/users/tardis2012). She's constantly checking over my stuff for mistakes and improving my writing and I love her a lot.

It seems like an eternity before anyone speaks again after Blaine’s outburst. Sebastian lets out a shaky breath, taking an automatic step back, because – no. Cooper can’t be dead. He’d _just_ emailed Sebastian. They’re screwing with him.

But one glimpse at the flash of pain in Blaine’s eyes and Sebastian’s breath leaves him all at once, his throat tightening.

He has no idea why. Up until now, he’d hated Cooper. Cooper had ruined his life – taken _everything_ from him. But now… fuck. Now all he feels is regret for how they’d left things.

Even Rachel seems to have gone silent. She ducks her head ever-so-slightly and he’s pretty sure he can even see a glint of remorse in her eyes. _So she’s not completely made of stone. Interesting._

“He is… was, my brother,” Blaine supplies, voice trembling a little.

“So you’re saying that my data… my computer… it’s gone?” Rachel asks, slicing through the silence with her sharp tone – any hint of sorrow gone so suddenly that Sebastian has to wonder if it was ever there at all.

Blaine blinks, glances at Sebastian, and then back at Rachel. He looks like he’s still trying to process the information himself. “No,” he says slowly, lowering his gun. “I’m saying that all of our secrets? Our data? They’re in Sebastian’s head. I’m saying that _Sebastian’s_ the computer.”

Two eyes bore into him, and Sebastian almost takes a step back before he remembers that he’s on the edge of a roof. “You’re insane.” Blaine says nothing, and Rachel’s watching him like she’s trying to work out a complex puzzle. “Both of you. You know what – fuck this. I’m leaving.”

In a brief moment of bravery, he makes a move to step around the two agents, hoping that they’ll bicker amongst themselves and leave him the hell alone, but both guns steady in the hands of their owners, and he hears a _click_ from Rachel’s direction. “Don’t you dare move an inch, Smythe,” she bites out.

“Rachel,” Blaine says, his voice rushed. “The bomb. We don’t have time for this. Sebastian, you’ll have to stay with me for the time being. I’m sorry, but I can’t let you go anywhere.”

The bomb. Right. Fuck. There are so many things going on that Sebastian’s losing track. His head is spinning.

“Can you save them?” Sebastian asks.

He’s addressing Blaine, but it’s Rachel that speaks up. “Can we disarm the bomb?”

For a brief second, Sebastian assumes her question is directed towards Blaine, but when he meets her eyes, they’re still fixed on him. “W-what?”

“You heard me. You’ve got all the secrets, Intersect. Can we disarm the bomb?”

“I- I don’t know. All I know is that the prime minister takes stage in twenty minutes.”

Rachel curses under her breath before pulling something out of her pocket that looks like a tiny square speaker, lifts it to her lips and says, “Get the van. We’re on the move.”

 

***

 

As soon as they’re back on ground, Rachel’s van screeches to a halt in front of them, and they all pile in.

He can’t say when the plan went from killing each other to working together, but Blaine and Rachel talk heatedly between them as the car swerves between traffic, the driver ignoring the honking and screeching of the other cars on the road like they’re just mere inconveniences. All Sebastian can do is clutch the seat in front of him and try to stop his heart from breaking out of his chest.

Still, he manages to survive his second high-speed car chase for the night, and the van screeches once more. Sebastian only just manages to steady his grip on the chair to stop himself from getting injured in the sudden motion.

He has to admit, it’s probably the most eventful “date” he’s ever been on, but he’s not sure that’s a good thing.

He doesn’t have much time to reflect on the ordeal, because Blaine’s grabbing his arm and dragging him out. Rachel’s already marching in front of them, her badge held up to the security guards trying to stop them from going in. Rachel’s men file out behind them, guns at the ready.

“Should’ve left your boyfriend in the van, Anderson,” Rachel snarls as they march through the lobby. Thankfully, it’s pretty empty – but the few that are swanning around appear petrified of the new visitors. No one dares to approach them.

“We need him,” Blaine says, though he sounds a little unsure of it himself. “He might be able to help with the bomb, and we need to be able to _find_ it first, anyway. You know where it is, don’t you?”

Sebastian nods. “Yeah. This way.”  He motions to the stairwell to their left.

He doesn’t even understand how his brain works it. It’s like there’s a navigation system inside his brain, and he’s barely aware that he’s following it. It’s just an automatic draw that takes them through several similar-looking dull greyed-out service corridors, each just as unremarkable and nondescript as the last. If he didn’t have the entire blueprints of the place mapped out inside his head, Sebastian would be the first to suspect they were going around in circles.

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Rachel asks, as though echoing his thoughts.

“They remodelled in 1983 and expanded the service corridors. These take us right to the Huntington Room and the pool.”

It’s not exactly an answer, but it’s all he’s got.  

Finally, after a few more twists and turns, they reach their destination, Sebastian bringing them through a backstage door as the voice of the prime minister carries through the auditorium. Backstage is dimly lit, and wires are snaked across the floor and around random pieces of equipment that Sebastian couldn’t even begin to attempt to identify. He was a theatre kid, not a tech guy.

“He’s already started,” Blaine points out, and Sebastian swears under his breath.

“Focus. Sebastian, where’s the bomb?” Rachel asks hurriedly.

He searches his mind, plans and blueprints whiz by – the entire layout of this place and a list of the names of every single staff member in the place, but—

“I. I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” she bites out.

“It’s here somewhere. I just- I don’t know exactly where.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Cut him a break, Rachel,” Blaine cuts in. “If the Intersect didn’t have the exact information, it’s not his fault.”

Rachel turns to her men. “Move out. Find the bomb. Now.”

They spread out in search of the terrifying device, and Sebastian rubs his temples trying to garner more information. They don’t have long. He’s lost track of the time, but they’re all in extremely real danger here.

But, no. Nothing. They’re all screwed.

Sebastian didn’t even get to say goodbye to Marley, he realises with a sharp, painful pang.

“Over here,” comes Rachel’s voice, slicing through his thoughts, and his heart loosens in his chest as he follows up to a podium that’s set at the side of the stage. They move around it, and his eyes land on a laptop strapped to a pile of explosives at the back, shielded by the panelling in front of it.

The countdown timer on the screen tells him three things:

1) They have exactly two minutes until the bomb goes off.

2) There’s no time to evacuate.

3) If they don’t stop it, everyone in this building are goners – them included.

“Any ideas?” Blaine asks, eyes scanning Rachel for an answer, but she has none to offer.

One of Rachel’s men pipes up instead. “Why don’t we just pull the wires out?”

“There’s an auto-trigger,” Sebastian finds himself replying. His chest rises and falls with urgency, and it feels like his ribcage just might cave in on him if it gets any tighter.

“Cables?” Blaine asks – but Sebastian shakes his head. There are too many, all different colours hooked to different parts. Far too risky, and they’d probably just end up being blown to pieces anyway.

“They weren’t in the original plans,” Sebastian tells him.

Blaine swallows thickly, but comes to a decision. He turns his gaze to Rachel. “Take Sebastian and get out of here. I’ll try the cables.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Sebastian, you’re carrying vital information inside your brain. If you die, we’re all screwed. Get out of here!”

Rachel’s men make a move to grab at him, dragging him towards the exit, but he manages to tear himself away, pushing the burly guy behind him in protest and rushing back to where Rachel and Blaine are crouched over the laptop.

The idea strikes him all at once.

He can’t detonate the bomb, but he can kill it with a virus.

“I think I can stop it,” he says suddenly.

“This isn’t a videogame,” Rachel replies, her voice urgent. “We don’t have time-“

“We don’t have time to argue with him,” Blaine tells her. “Rachel, we’re dead either way. We can’t save these people. The least we can do is let him try.”

Heart racing, Sebastian pulls up the command prompt and ignores Rachel’s groan of despair.

He runs his hand over his face. Thirty seconds. Okay. He can do this. He has to. He’s _not_ dying tonight.

His hands glide across the keyboard as he types in several commands, pulling up the browser in the process, trying to jog his memory of the brief he’d delivered to his team last week.

_“Irene Demova,” Nick had said with a snort. “You mean the porn star?”_

_Sebastian shook his head. “It’s a virus, named after her. Hilarious, but nasty. It’s a computer killer. We’re getting a shitload of them in right now.”_

_“Shit,” Jeff piped up. “We’re gonna need to be more careful with our porn.”_

_“Not me,” Sebastian replied with a smirk. “She’s not my type.”_

_“Yeah, we get it, Smythe,” Hunter cut in. “You only like dick. Can we get on with the meeting already?”_

His throat catches his breath – ten seconds and counting. He needs to move quick.

A quick google search of Irene Demova, and one of Rachel’s men pipes up. “Are you seriously looking at porn right now?”

Ignoring the grumbling, he finds the link he’s searching for, and as soon as he clicks, it takes mere seconds for the virus to download.

“Stand back and cover your eyes.”

He squeezes his own shut, because like fuck is he subjecting himself to naked women when he’s about to die. He’d much rather picture Blaine naked. Which… god. Kind of devastating that he’ll never get to see it. He’d been anticipating it all night.

He does hear the sparks and fizzles that emit from the laptop, though, and Sebastian’s stomach tightens. A whimper falls from somewhere behind him that sounds like neither Blaine nor Rachel. This is it. They’re goners. His stomach tightens and bile rises in his throat, and the only words that run through his mind in his last seconds are—

_I’m sorry, Marley._

3…

2…

1…

….

Nothing happens.

He lets out the breath he’s been holding, his heart managing to dislodge itself from where it had been jammed, and nausea and dread start to ease away. When he opens his eyes, the computer’s a goner – but they’re all safe. He’s safe. He’s not dead.

“You did it,” Blaine says, disbelief tinting his tone.

“I did it,” Sebastian replies. A shot of adrenaline runs through his entire system, and he lets out a breath, trying to steady the trembling that reverberates in his voice.  “Holy shit. I did it.”

He defused a bomb. A very real, terrifying, dangerous bomb that was about to wipe him and the rest of the hotel’s population out in seconds.

What if he’d been wrong? What if the virus hadn’t worked? They’d all be goners. Marley would probably hear about the explosion on television before anyone would even consider contacting her, the government far too concerned with losing their precious Intersect.

She’d be alone.

Well, she’d have Ryder, but… for a long time, they were all each other had. Sebastian had lost his mother since before he can remember, their dad walked out, and then Marley’s mom…

Marley needs him.

“You alright, Sebastian?” Blaine asks, brows creased. “You look a little pale.”

“Don’t puke on the C-4,” Rachel supplies, rather unhelpfully.

Clearing his throat, Blaine raises to his feet, dusting off the pants of his suit. “Alright. We need to go. You’re coming with me, Sebastian. As of now you’re a CIA asset until we figure out what to do.”

“No, he’s coming with me,” Rachel asserts, raising herself to Blaine’s level.

In all the commotion, Sebastian’s somehow managed to forget that the two had been fighting over him earlier. He pinches the bridge of his nose with an exasperated sigh. “I’m not going with either of you. I’m going home to my sister.”

None of them acknowledge him, which only serves to piss him off further. He’s a human being, and they’re treating him like some… piece of equipment. He didn’t ask for this. Fuck, he wouldn’t have asked for this. He just wants to go back to his own damn life.

“Can you even comprehend what those NSA doctors would do to him?” Blaine asks. “It’s barbaric. He’s a human being, Rachel.”

“Right, because the CIA interrogators will be _entirely_ painless, right?” Rachel replies, tone dripping with sarcasm.

Painless? What?

“Go home, Rachel. Get your strokes from the Pentagon. Bask in the glory.” Blaine’s expression turns to defiance, and even though he’s not in Sebastian’s good books right now, he can’t help but feel something stir just below the waist. Sebastian always did have a thing for hot, dangerous guys. “Just don’t get used to it.”

Rachel lets out a snort. “Right. Let’s face it, Anderson. You’re just pissed that we crashed your date. You need to start being more careful. You can’t get too attached. It’ll be like Evans all over again.”

Sebastian has no idea who this Evans person is, but Blaine’s shoulders sink and his expression darkens. “Don’t talk about him. This isn’t like that.”

“Like I said,” Rachel says, stepping forward towards Sebastian. “He’s coming with me.”

Blaine snags his arm with surprising force, and Sebastian stumbles on his feet. “No. He’s CIA property.”

That sentence simultaneously kick starts his brain again, and sends fury through his entire system.

“I’m going with _no one_ ,” he snaps, pulling his arm back from Blaine with force. “I’m a human being. I have rights. I have a fucking life. In fact, I just saved _your_ lives. The lives of everyone in this building, actually. I deserve a damn reward, not a punishment. And I’m _definitely_ not anyone’s property.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Rachel says. “You don’t get a say in this, Smythe. Like it or not, you _are_ government property now. As long as you have that thing in your brain, you belong to us.”

“Cooper sent the email to me, right? And he’s dead.” Blaine flinches at that, but Sebastian continues. “So I’m the one who apparently gets government secrets whenever I turn on the radio or pass an ad for toothpaste in the street. Which means you _need_ me.” He straightens his back – his height bringing him above both Blaine and Rachel. “Which means you need to listen to me. I’m not going with either of you. I’m going home.”

Rachel turns to one of her agents, who steps forward towards Sebastian, but before he reaches him, Blaine cuts in.

“Rachel, he’s right.”

Rachel waves her hand and the guy steps back. “We have orders, Anderson. And right or wrong, my orders are to bring this moron to the DNI.”

Sebastian has no clue what the hell the DNI is, and he’s not planning on finding out. He needs to formulate a plan in case they try to lock him up somewhere because there’s no way in hell he’s going to be a government guinea pig or glorified data source, or whatever the fuck they were planning on doing with him.

“Think of it this way,” Blaine replies quickly, his hands raised so that no one makes any sudden movements. “He’s too valuable to interrogate. The Intersect is gone, Rach. But _he_ works.”

“And what if this is a fluke?”

“I don’t think it was. What if he can stop other things? Something bigger? He’s right, Rachel. We need him.”

Rachel pauses and sighs, pulling her phone from her jacket pocket. Sebastian recognises it as one of the newer models – almost impossible to get. They ran out of stock on the first day at the Buy More. “This isn’t our decision to make.”

Dismissing herself, Rachel moves out of earshot, and Sebastian’s stomach swoops with nerves.

What will happen if they decide to take him in? Where will he even go? Will he ever get to see his friends and family again? Nausea rocks him so hard that he stumbles in his step a little bit, and Blaine immediately rushes to his side to steady him.

He pretends not to notice the shock of electricity that sparks through him at the other’s touch. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before, and he’d rather not try to figure out what that even means.

“Are you alright?” Blaine asks, his eyes wide, and Sebastian’s heart stutters a little because he just sounds so fucking _earnest_. What kind of spy is this guy, anyway?

Then again, Blaine definitely had him fooled earlier today when he’d marched into the Buy More and asked Sebastian on a date. He has to wonder how much of this is an act, and how much of it is real. His heart implores him to trust the guy, but then again, Sebastian never did trust his heart. No point in listening to it now.

“I’m fine,” he grumbles, shaking Blaine off his arm. He’s pretty sure he imagines the pang of hurt that falls across Blaine’s features.

Pretty sure.

“Blaine,” Rachel calls, approaching them once more. “We need to talk.”

Sebastian raises his eyebrows. “What, so you can both decide what to do with me while I sit on the sidelines?” His head shakes rapidly, and he takes a step away from them. “Not happening. You’ll have to kill me first.”

Rachel just glares. “Whether you’ve noticed it or not, Smythe, this isn’t your decision. This is bigger than you, or even us.”

“Rachel,” Blaine scolds.

“Well, it’s true.”

Blaine sighs, scrubbing his hands over his face. For the first time tonight, Sebastian can’t help but notice that he seems exhausted. “Look, Sebastian, can you just… give us a minute?”

“Fine. But if you’re expecting to lock me up and experiment on me, don’t expect me to come with you without a fight.” A fight that he’s sure to lose, but he doesn’t need to voice that out loud. Not that Blaine or Rachel appear to be even remotely worried about the prospect. They have guns and Sebastian has… snark.

Marley did always say that it would end up getting him killed some day. Maybe she wasn’t entirely off the mark after all.Still, he’d rather die than become a government slave.

His eyes follow them as Rachel leads Blaine to the corner of the room, but they’re too far out of earshot for Sebastian to hear what’s going on.

Sometimes body language can speak more than words, though. Blaine’s expression shifts from passive, to something that resembles anger, and then to something that he can’t quite read – worry, maybe? - his eyebrows wrinkled and his lips in a thin line. But he lets out a sigh and nods, and soon enough, he and Rachel are joining Sebastian at his end of the room once more.

“So, am I running for my life or not?” Sebastian asks sharply. He’s tired, he’s scared and he just wants to go the fuck home to his bed. He’s not really asking for much, but these assholes are acting like he’s demanding the world.

Rachel tsks and Blaine trains his expression into a smile. There’s something a little off about it, but Sebastian doesn’t have it in him to ask about it. Especially considering Blaine’s next words.

“It’s okay, Sebastian. Everything’s fine. You get to go home.”

“For now,” Rachel cuts in.

“For now?” He crosses his arms. “What does that even _mean_?”

“Let’s just… get you home,” Blaine says, laying a hand on Sebastian’s arm. He doesn’t shrug it off this time, he just lets out a breath. “We’ll talk about it later, alright?”

“When is later exactly?”

“We’ll call you,” Rachel tells him.

If there was even the slightest hope of Sebastian growing to like Rachel, it’s definitely been blown to smithereens now.

 

***

 

“Your car will be outside your apartment by tomorrow morning. No one will realise that it was gone in the first place.”

Sebastian’s barely listening. The whole car ride has been spent in relative silence. He supposes he should be grateful that it had been Blaine that opted to drive him home rather than Rachel. He’s not sure he could’ve suffered a whole car ride alone with her whiny voice and holier-than-thou attitude.

At Sebastian’s silence, Blaine lets out a breath. “Are you alright?”

He presses his lips together. Blaine’s one of the last people he wants to talk to about this, but it’s not like he can go home and rant to Marley about the entire ordeal. Not unless he wants the government on her ass too.

“This morning I made eleven bucks an hour fixing computers. And now I have one in my _brain_ .” He runs his hands through his tawny locks - a nervous tick that he’s had since before he can remember. “I don’t get why Cooper did this to me. Why didn’t he send it to _you_?”

It’s Blaine that goes quiet this time, and Sebastian swallows thickly, because – yeah. Dead brother. That’s gotta hurt.

“You know, before he went rogue, Cooper used to talk about you.”

He nods because it’s probably true. They were pretty tight in college. He’s not sure how Blaine and Cooper’s relationship operated as brothers, nor as spies, but he figures they must have talked about _some_ things.

Taking account of Sebastian’s silence, Blaine decides it’s safe to continue.

“He told me that you guys were close. And he talked about how he thought that you could do so much more.”

It doesn’t make sense. If Cooper thought Sebastian could do more, why did he set him up? Why did he ruin his life? He’s not sure he’ll ever learn now.

“Was he… good at being a spy?” Sebastian asks because it’s been bugging him the entire night.

Blaine nods, and his eyes cloud up, voice trembling a little. “He was one of the best. Until he went rogue.”

Sebastian can’t help the stab of guilt that hits his chest. It’s not like it’s his fault that Cooper’s gone, but he probably shouldn’t have asked. Quickly, he switches gears. “What if he meant to send the email to someone else? Can you fix me? Or am I stuck with this for the rest of my life?”

Blaine’s lips thin again, and a pregnant pause thickens the atmosphere in the car so much that Sebastian struggles to take a breath. He seems to decide on opting for the truth. Or however much of it that he’s authorised to tell Sebastian, anyway.

“Even if we could deactivate the subliminal triggers… erasing what you know is too risky. You’re carrying a lot of sensitive data, and you’re all that’s left of the Intersect. Compromising you would mean compromising national security.”

“You could’ve just said ‘maybe’.” Sebastian sighs.

The sound of crunching gravel as the tires roll over the driveway reaches his ears, and before he even realises that he’s home, the car rumbles to a stop. Blaine gets out and rounds the car, opening Sebastian’s side of it. He steps out of it mechanically.

Maybe he’s a little more dazed than he thought he was, but the sight of his porch is enough to calm him.

He still not too out of it to notice the curtain that twitches from his living room, though. Sebastian rolls his eyes. “My sister’s at the window.”

Blaine chuckles. “Well then,” he says, reaching out for Sebastian’s hand and lacing their fingers together, and a warmth spreads through him all at once. Sebastian sucks in a breath, trying not to appear too surprised at the development. Marley’s watching and Sebastian acting anything but confident around a guy that he’s into will send off warning signals. “We’re supposed to be on a date, right?”

“Right.”

They stop just a little away from his porch and turn to face each other, Sebastian’s expression somber. “Is she in danger?” he asks.

“Tell her nothing. Keep her safe.”

Sebastian nods and makes a move towards the porch, but Blaine tugs him by the hand. He stops, turning back with raised eyebrows. “What?”

“We’re on a date,” Blaine replies, lips tugging into a smile so that Marley doesn’t catch on. Sebastian tries to do the same. “And she’s watching.”

Blaine leans into him and Sebastian ‘s eyes fall to his lips, his heart picking up once more.

It’s not much.  Just a graze of the lips. But it’s enough to kickstart the adrenaline that had faded somewhere between the bomb and the car ride and make his skin prickle on his arms. His head still spins from it when Blaine draws back, his hand resting on Sebastian’s upper arm and his thumb grazing over his jacket, dragging tiny sparks along his skin. “Trust me, Sebastian. That’s all I ask.”

Sebastian’s worried that trusting Blaine is the wrong thing to do, but he’s starting to realise that he might be heading in that direction nonetheless.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. You can find me on tumblr at [thescarletspeedstress](http://thescarletspeedstress.tumblr.com).


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